.3 



A VISIT TO 
DOUGLAS HAIG 



BY 

ISAAC F. MARCOSSON 

REPRINTED FROM "EVERYBODY'S MAGAZINE" 



NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS IN AMERICA FOE HODDER & STOUGHTON 
MCMXVII 



COPYRIGHT, 1917, 
BY THE RIDGWAY COMPANY 



MAY 6 1919 



^ 



A VISIT TO 



SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 



FOR days I had run the gamut of the guns: 
ranged the whole far-flung British battle-line 
until the world seemed a tumult of trench and 
traffic shaken by a deadly din. Suddenly I came 
to a quiet backwater near this whirlpool of war. 

It was a modest chateau well off the beaten 
road, so screened by French poplars that its quie- 
tude suggested the aloof and untroubled days 
of peace. The red flag that fluttered at the gate, 
the presence of more than the usual number of 
sentries, the distant rumble of artillery, were the 
only external evidences that this secluded house 
which basked in the winter sun was linked with 
the world's greatest conflict. 

Yet amid those friendly trees is the nerve cen- 
tre of the mightiest English military machine 
ever created: from its pleasant drawing-room 
that looks out upon an old-world garden are is- 
sued the commands at which millions of armed 
men leap to action: toward it countless anxious 
hearts turn every day for the tidings of cheer 
or despair. For here are the Headquarters of 
Field-Marshal Sir Douglas Haig, Commander- 
in-Chief of all the British Armies in France and 
Flanders. 

I have seen Army and Corps Headquarters far 



2 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

more pretentious than the domicile that shelters 
the Chieftain of them all. It is characteristic of 
the silent soldier who literally wields the power 
of life and death that the seat of his fateful au- 
thority should be like the man himself — simple, 
dignified, impressive. You get a hint of Haig 
before you see him. 

The environment of the Commander-in-Chief 
is strongly suggestive of his conduct of the war. 
Before war became a thing of precise science the 
Headquarters of an Army Head seethed with all 
the picturesque details so common to pictures of 
martial life. Couriers mounted on foam-flecked 
horses dashed to and fro: the air was vibrant 
with action : the fate of battle showed on the face 
of the humblest orderly. 

But to-day "G.H.Q." — as headquarters are 
familiarly known — are totally different. Al- 
though army units have risen from thousands 
to millions of men, and fields of operations stretch 
from sea to sea, and more ammunition is expend- 
ed in a single engagement than was employed in 
entire wars of other days, absolute serenity pre- 
vails. It is only when your imagination conjures 
up the picture of flame and fury that lie beyond 
the horizon line that you get a thrill. 

An occasional motor-car driven by a soldier- 
chauffeur chugs up the gravel road to the chateau, 
and from it emerge earnest-faced officers whose 
visits are usually brief. Neither time nor words 
are wasted when myriad lives hang in the balance 
and an Empire is at stake. War is swift and 
brooks no delay. Inside and out there is an at- 
mosphere of quiet confidence, born of unobtru- 
sive efficiency. 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 3 

This is due first of all to the fact that it is the 
Haig way of doing things; second, because war 
now is a vast, well-oiled industry carried on with 
such perfect organisation that to the American 
trained to study the mechanics of huge corpora- 
tions in his own country it seems strangely fa- 
miliar. Make the most elemental comparison and 
you see at once how close the parallel is. 

That modest French chateau hemmed in by pop- 
lars is nothing more or less than the Executive 
Office of the deadliest but best organised business 
in the world. It houses the mainspring of the 
most colossal system of merchandising that com- 
merce has ever known. Strip away the glamour, 
and it is merely merchandising with men instead 
of goods. You have every consecutive process of 
business evolution. Instead of representing the 
conversion of pig-iron into motors, it expresses 
the translation of raw human material into ex- 
pert fighting men. In the operations of battling 
armies you have the scientific incarnation of the 
greatest of all business problems — distribution. 
Clash in war is the prototype of the keenly de- 
veloped competition of peace. In a word, the 
competition between nations takes the form of 
war. 

From a different angle the Commander-in- 
Chief bears the same relation to the carrying on 
of war that a Master Sales Manager bears to the 
dissemination of a product. His task is to deploy 
his output where it can hit the hardest, and on 
the success of this alignment his Cause stands 
or falls. 

"What would represent profit in trade is here 
expressed in terms of advance — in territory 



4 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

gained. The highest dividend is victory ; the per- 
manent aftermath is peace and liberty. 

Study Haig and the British Army at close 
range and you find that war is work — the most 
difficult, desperate, and unremitting labour that 
the hand and brain of man ever devised. The 
price of freedom as fought for on the battlefields 
of Europe to-day is infinite but organised toil 
knit by sacrifice and fed by fire. 

Now you see why it is important for America to 
get some idea of the kind of man who is shaping 
the field destiny of that magnificent army which 
represents in this momentous hour the hope of 
the world and likewise, to no small degree, our 
own future peace and prosperity. 

To write of Sir Douglas Haig, therefore, is to 
write not only of the conspicuous military leader- 
ship but also of the kindling response that an un- 
trained and undisciplined people made to organ- 
ised and long-pending aggression, and this narra- 
tive conveys a lesson to America as stirring as it 
is significant. 

THE NERVE CENTRE OP WAR 

Ever since the beginning of the present war 
the average American has constantly asked him- 
self : "How is a war involving millions of men 
and extending over an immense area conducted ?" 
He is baffled by problems of transport and com- 
munication, demand and supply. Shells are no 
respecters of hunger or sleep. He wonders how 
soldiers are fed when death lurks at every turn; 
he marvels that armies of two nations, each speak- 
ing a different language and operating in sepa- 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 5 

rate spheres, can co-operate and co-ordinate. All 
this and mnch more piles up the huge question: 
"How is it done?'' 

You find much of the answer crystallised in 
one phrase — team-work. It is the essence of the 
formula which expresses the success of Sir Doug- 
las Haig and explains the advance of the British 
Army. If such a thing were possible you would 
find it emblazoned over the doorway of that un- 
assuming Headquarters chateau " somewhere in 
France. ' ' 

Thus the work-together idea, which in war 
spells the brotherhood of the firing line, lies at 
the very root of all that Britain's khaki-clad host 
has achieved on the Western front. The guide, 
compass and friend is the Commander-in-Chief. 
At his disposal are placed the human battalions ; 
all the materials with which to feed and fight. 
Up to him is put squarely the task of translating 
those units into victory. To get at the procedure 
you must first have some revelation of the man, 
his personality and his methods. In them are 
reflected the whole process by which battle is born. 
Know them and you learn what costly and actual 
experience alone can teach — that the path of glory 
is paved with innumerable unromantic and lustre- 
less details, and that the soldier who goes forth 
to do or die is a cog in a mighty and militant ma- 
chine. 

In scientific distribution of labour and syste- 
matic economy of operation, the British Army 
represents a thousand United States Steel Cor- 
porations piled on end and then some. The co- 
hesion that binds it, the energy that galvanises it, 
the fervour that animates it, and the pure genius 



6 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

that drives it day and night would stoke an Em- 
pire — almost reorganise a world. Gear all this 
concentrated force up to constructive business en- 
terprise and it would show a balance-sheet that 
dripped with profit! 

You have only to carry the commercial analogy 
one step further to discover the thing that domi- 
nates and makes possible every important Amer- 
ican corporate undertaking — namely, a highly 
centralised direction vested with complete author- 
ity. In this case it happens to be the Commander- 
in-Chief, or, in plain business terms, General 
Manager of the British Armies, Unlimited. 

Disclose the Haig make-up and you also reveal 
the human stuff that leads the forlorn hope. It 
is the universal fibre of the British soldier. The 
moral of it is that you cannot get away from that 
ancient maxim: "Like officers, like men." 

THE IMPERTURBABLE HAIG 

To the human interest historian, and more es- 
pecially the vendor of popularity, Haig presents 
a curious paradox. I will tell you why. 

Ask any man that you meet casually in Lon- 
don what he knows about the Commander-in- 
Chief of the British Armies and he will reply 
at once: "Why, he is a great soldier." Press 
him for further illuminating facts and the chances 
are that he will falter and hesitate, and then say : 
"The fact is I don't really know any more." It 
would be a typical experience in the hunt for 
Haig data. 

The first of the many striking things about Sir 
Douglas Haig lies in the amazing anomaly that, 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 7 

while his name appears every day in countless 
newspapers throughout the world (he signs the 
daily reports of British operations in France), 
he is perhaps the least advertised factor in all 
the tremendous drama that he directs. When you 
meet him you discover the reason. 

He is the personification of personal modesty 
— not the professional modesty which is one of 
the surest roads to publicity, but a deep-seated 
and sincere aversion to exploitation that is one 
of his most marked characteristics. He shuns 
the lime-light. 

I have talked with men who have been his com- 
rades from South Africa to the Somme. Save 
for the most superficial information, they know 
nothing about him except that he has "made 
good" wherever he has been put. "He doesn't 
talk much. He is a Fifer," they say. 

Right here you get the first ray of light on the 
Haig reserve, for he was born in the little Scot- 
tish kingdom of Fife, where courage is as ada- 
mant as its granite hills, and whence sprang the 
Clan MacDufT, foremost fighters of a fighting 
race. The imperturbability of those brooding 
hills is his soul. It has helped to make him the 
soldier he is. 

It girded him with the strength and persever- 
ance to lead the famous ride to the relief of Kim- 
berley; it bore him through the heroic retreat 
from Mons; it sustained and fortified him when 
he rode serenely down the shattered lines of 
Ypres, and gave life and lift to one of the most 
brilliant stands that military resistance has 
known. 

Sir Douglas Haig had cut his fighting teeth 



8 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

when he succeeded Lord French as Commander- 
in-Chief in France. 

Despite his long record of achievement, his 
name was far from being a household word like 
those of Kitchener and Roberts. But the im- 
portant fact was that the troops knew him — 
knew to their pride and to their satisfaction that 
the new leader, like the old, had been flame-tried 
and not found wanting. 

I like to remember my first glimpse of the Field- 
Marshal. It came after unforgettable days and 
nights with armies that flirted with death above, 
below and upon the ground. His name ran like a 
strain up and down the line. I had watched troops 
return from a raid that had netted a good bag 
of prisoners, and heard the jubilant officer in 
charge say : " This will be good news for the Chief 
at G.H.Q." It was more like the enthusiasm of 
a foot-ball player after a hard-won game than 
the satisfaction that followed a desperate dash 
that took its toll of youth and blood. But it was 
typical of what the man on the job thought of 
the man higher up, and it expressed also, I might 
add, the spirit of the English officer, who looks 
upon war as a great adventure. 

And so it came about that, after a vicarious 
apprenticeship to the trade of war, I came upon 
its Master Workman. It was a brilliant, sunlit 
winter day. Behind us on the main highways I 
had left the endless ammunition trains, the trail- 
ing squadrons of motor trucks, the rattling pro- 
cessions of artillery — all the clatter and para- 
phernalia of war transport. Only the boom of 
guns still pounded in my ears. They had echoed 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 9 

so long that they seemed part of the very noises 
of nature. 

We turned off the chief artery of traffic and 
travelled for miles along sequestered ways. Soon 
a simple chateau loomed above ivied walls, and, 
almost before I realised it, 'we had run the gaunt- 
let of the sentries at the gate and had brought up 
before a doorway that would have delighted the 
heart of the architectural enthusiast. A few years 
before, laughing children had played under its 
arch and glad voices had resounded through the 
hall that stretched behind. Although now an out- 
post of war it still breathed some of the gentle 
atmosphere of peace. The continuous jangle of 
the telephone was the only harsh sound that broke 
what seemed to all intents and purposes the 
ordinary calm of a well-ordered French country 
house. 

There was the usual courteous greeting so in- 
stinctive with the British officer, whether you 
wade to him through the mud of a trench or meet 
him amid the comforts of humane habitation. 

In France all the headquarters of the various 
British Armies are very much alike in that they 
are established in chateaux. Instead of being 
commandeered after the German fashion they are 
rented and paid for in pursuance of the laws of 
decency and honour. 

Whether by accident or design, the General 
Headquarters are smaller and more unpreten- 
tious than any of the others. One reason is that 
Sir Douglas Haig is surrounded only by his per- 
sonal staff. The other officers who comprise his 
field Cabinet live not far away. 

So noiseless is the conduct of these dynamos 



10 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

of war that, save for the constant movement of 
officers, you would never guess that from within 
its walls issue the orders that, translated into 
action, are changing the map of the world. 

The establishment over which the Commander- 
in-Chief presides is practically as its owners left 
it. Indeed, the chateau that he occupied prior to 
the time when I visited him was still tenanted by 
the old French family whose home it had been 
for years, and who had inhabited one of the 
wings. Hence it came about that in those soul- 
stirring days, when the first Somme offensive was 
being planned and executed, the voices of children 
running up and down the halls mingled with the 
incessant murmur of the guns and the work of 
that devoted band of men, who then, as now, were 
directing one of the most stupendous operations 
in the history of all war. 

A BORN SOLDIER 

The moment you enter "G.H.Q." you feel that 
you have established a contact with something 
significant. I do not mean that there is the slight- 
est tension, but, whether it is the play of the 
imagination or not, you acknowledge an authority 
that you have never felt before. It is the uncon- 
scious tribute that you pay to the personality that 
dominates the place. 

The desks, maps and eternal telephone are in 
sharp contrast with the ancient furniture and 
works of art that still remain in the house. The 
old family portraits look down solemnly upon you 
from the walls. They hear and see strange things 
these strenuous days — nothing stranger than the 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 11 

spectacle of the once detested English in the role 
of defenders of the invaded and beloved France. 

I sat chatting with a young staff officer in one 
of the small ante-rooms that led off from the main 
hall. His telephone-bell rang incessantly. Dur- 
ing a lull the door at my right opened, and re- 
mained open after a Military Secretary had 
passed out. 

I looked through the doorway and saw a tall, 
lithe, well-knit man with the insignia of a Field- 
Marshal on his shoulder-straps. He sat at a 
plain, flat-topped desk earnestly studying a re- 
port. In a moment he straightened up, pushed a 
button, and my companion said : 

"The Commander-in-Chief will see you now." 

The Haig welcome is a sufficient rebuke to what- 
ever legend of his aloofness that may exist. I 
found myself in a presence that, without the 
slightest clue to its profession, would have un- 
consciously impressed itself as military. 

Dignity, distinction and a gracious reserve 
mingle in his bearing; I have rarely seen a mas- 
culine face so handsome and yet so strong. His 
hair is fair, and his clear, almost steely blue eyes 
search you, but not unkindly. His chest is broad 
and deep, yet scarcely broad enough for the rows 
of Service and Order ribbons that plant a mass 
of colour against the background of khaki. 

The Commander-in-Chief's cavalry training 
sticks out all over him. You see it in the long, 
shapely lines of his legs and in the rounded calves, 
shod in perfectly polished boots, with their jingle 
of silver spurs. He stands easily and gracefully, 
and walks with that rangy, swinging stride oddly 
enough so common to men who ride much. He 



12 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

was a famous fox-hunter in his student days at 
Oxford, and never, save in times of utmost crisis, 
does he forgo his daily gallop. To him the motor 
is a business vehicle, never meant for sport or 
pleasure. In brief, Sir Douglas Haig is the literal 
personification of what the man meant when he 
made the phrase: "every inch a soldier." 

I have seen most of the Chiefs of the Allied 
Armies in this war. It is no depreciation of any 
of them to say that the Commander-in-Chief of 
the British Army is the best groomed and most 
soldierly looking of them all. He has none of 
that purely paternal quality which impresses you 
the moment you see Joffre: he is smarter and 
more alert in appearance than Nivelle. Under 
all the racking burden of a super-responsibility, 
he remains a cheerful, interested human being, 
who can forget in the distraction of lay discus- 
sion the anxieties and agonies that lurk almost 
within gunshot of his residence. 

The room which is to-day the Capitol of Brit- 
ish Military Sovereignty in France is a conven- 
tional drawing-room which, like the rest of the 
house, maintains practically every detail of the 
original furnishing. But it is a soldier's work- 
shop nevertheless, and with all the working tools. 

Chief among them when I called was an im- 
mense relief map of the whole Somme region. It 
rested on a large table just behind the Field- 
Marshal 's desk. Over this inert and unrespon- 
sive mass of grey and green clay, criss-crossed 
with red lines, he had pondered through many a 
wakeful hour. On it is written the whole trium- 
phant story of that great advance which regis- 
tered a new glory for British arms. 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 13 

I could not help thinking, as I sat there before 
a blazing fire, what a great place in history that 
simple room would have: how, in years to come, 
it would be known as the real setting of the de- 
cisive phases of the Great War, so far as land 
operations are concerned. 

"the wak of youth' ' 

We spoke of many things that winter day in 
France — of America, of world politics, and of the 
spiritual aftermath of the war, strange contrast 
as that was to the business of slaughter that raged 
around us. 

The Field-Marshal's voice is low and deep- 
almost musical. He is as sparing of words as he 
is of men. In his conversation he reminds me of 
some of those great American Captains of Capi- 
tal — men like Rogers, Ryan, and Harriman who, 
like himself, believed in action and not speech: 
men, too, who minimised the value of their own 
utterances and who, when drawn out of the shell 
of their taciturnity, disclosed views of force and 
originality. 

Like many men of great reserve, the Field-Mar- 
shal would rather face the jaws of death than an 
interviewer. Indeed, you could count on the fin- 
gers of one hand the number of times that he has 
actually talked for publication, and then have 
some to spare. 

Yet this quiet man, at whose command the very 
earth trembles with passion and noise, is very 
human. One of the ironies of this war is that 
the most inhuman of professions is directed by 
the most human of men. 

He asked me what I thought of the work of the 



14 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

armies in the field. I told him that, after their 
splendid team-work, their moral, and their effi- 
ciency, one of the things that impressed me most 
was the youth I saw everywhere — a rosy, almost 
radiant youth, that walked into death blithe and 
unafraid. 

I was with Sir Douglas Haig in those momen- 
tous days when America broke off diplomatic re- 
lations with Germany, and when those of us tem- 
porarily exiled abroad believed that the time had 
at last come when we would actively take our 
place in the line-up of the Great Cause. This 
naturally led to the subject of what war had done 
for the Overseas peoples, and by them was spe- 
cifically meant those gallant Sons of Empire who 
had heeded the call of the Mother Lioness and 
had left bush and range and field to fight in far- 
off lands. 

Rash prophecy is remote from the Haig scheme 
of life. Although inarticulate about himself, he 
has always favoured the frankest publicity about 
his Army and the performance of his men. The 
brief and businesslike reports of operations that 
emanate each day from his Headquarters — they 
are almost epigrammatic — are eminently charac- 
teristic of the man whose name they bear. 

Yet behind the unvarnished statement that "a 

trench was taken at " often lies an unwritten 

classic of courage — an unheralded epic of sacri- 
fice. 

THE HAIG PEESONALITY 

But underneath all this poverty of Haig expres- 
sion lies a mine of unexplored human material, 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 15 

whose richest vein is the real personality of the 
man himself. 

War, which is usually the graveyard of reputa- 
tions, has raised him to eminence without dis- 
closing those intimate facts which are so neces- 
sary to the study of an individual and his achieve- 
ment. Because of this famine of published infor- 
mation, no less marked in Great Britain than in 
America, it seems worth while to dwell for a mo- 
ment on the story of his life. This will help you 
to understand why he has attained such eminence 
and how he has welded those hosts, gathered from 
the uttermost ends of the earth, into a coherent, 
elastic, ever-ready and dependable force that 
works with the precision of the most delicate 
mechanism. 

Most people know that Haig is a Fifer, but what 
they do not know is the very illuminating fact 
that from his boyhood he aspired to be a soldier. 
This ambition took definite form at Oxford, where 
he was a student at Brasenose College. He was 
never the "hail-fellow-well-met" sort of person. 
Reserve was his hall-mark. But he was always an 
outdoor man : he invariably rode a big grey horse 
every afternoon, and he spent all his leisure time 
fox-hunting. 

In those days to be an officer was more of a 
luxury than a real profession in England. The 
country had so adapted itself to the buying of 
commissions that when a man regarded the Army 
as a definite career he became marked. As a mat- 
ter of fact, as Haig rode through the streets of 
Oxford and out across the lovely countryside 
that lies adjacent, he was often pointed out. His 
colleagues would say: 



16 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

" There goes young Haig. He is going to be a 
soldier.' ' 

Little did they dream that the fair-haired boy 
who sat so erect in his saddle would lead one of 
the greatest armies in the annals of all military 
endeavour, and that he would be the inspiration 
that made soldiering a sacred calling. 

Then, as now, Sir Douglas gave the impression 
of a great store of latent energy — of reserved 
vitality. Few were ever deceived by his quiet- 
ness into thinking that he was apathetic. 

His first military experience was in the cavalry 
which he has always loved, and his initial promo- 
tion came from gallant service on the hot sands 
of the Soudan. In the South African War he 
took first rank as a cavalry leader. He had so 
many narrow escapes from death that he came 
to be known as ' l Lucky Haig. ' ' 

As you analyse the Haig personality you find 
that he has an amazing insight — a real gift of 
constructive forecast. His appraisal of the Ger- 
man menace will illustrate this. More than twen- 
ty years ago he went to Germany for a long visit. 
As a result of that journey he wrote a long let- 
ter to Sir Evelyn Wood which, in view of the vor- 
tex of bloody events of the present day, is little 
short of uncanny. A friend who saw that letter 
has summed it up as "one of practical insight, 
mastery of detail, shrewd prophecy and earnest 
warning." The future Commander-in-Chief of 
the British Armies in France was then convinced 
of the inevitableness of the coming conflict with 
the Kaiser, and he felt strongly the urgent need 
of preparedness for the struggle which he knew 
would uproot all Europe. 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 17 

But his warnings, like those of his great col- 
league Lord Roberts in England, and those of 
General Leonard Wood in America, fell on deaf 
and unheeding ears. I cite this episode merely 
to show that Haig, like many another prophet, 
was not without honour, save in his own land, 
and also that he has the quality of vision which 
is the indispensable attribute of every leader of 
men. 

He had ample opportunity to impress his execu- 
tive ability as Chief of Staff in India, and he had 
just begun to execute some of his striking ideas 
of training as Commander at Alder shot (Eng- 
land's great military camp) when the Great War 
broke out. He was in at the beginning, and he has 
been on the firing line ever since. In the rack 
and agony of those first fighting months he saw 
the hideous harvest that unpreparedness reaps. 

Of these two heroic Army Corps — the famous 
"First Seven Divisions' ' — that Lord French took 
to the rescue in France in that historic August of 
1914 (the intrepid force, by the way, that the 
Kaiser called "the contemptible little English 
army"), Haig commanded the First, which in- 
cluded much of the cavalry. 

From Mons to Ypres he was in the thick of bat- 
tle, never depressed, never elated, his courage and 
example acting like a talisman of strength on 
tired and war-worn troopers who fought valiant- 
ly against odds the like of which had not been 
recorded almost since Thermopylae. It is such a 
continuous tale of heroism, in which the humblest 
Tommy had his full share, that it is difficult to 
extract a single incident. 

Out of all that welter of work and fight let us 



18 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

take one story which, almost more than any other, 
reveals the grit and stamina that are Sir Dong- 
las Haig's. It was at the first battle of Ypres, 
when that immortal thin line of British khaki, 
bent but not broken, stemmed the mighty German 
avalanche and blocked the passage to the sea. 
Ontnnmbered more than ten to one in some places, 
it fought with that desperate and dogged tenacity 
which has always been the inheritance of the Brit- 
ish soldier. 

Every impromptu trench was a Valhalla of 
English gallantry. Deeds that in other wars 
would have stood out conspicuously were here 
merged into an unending succession of acts of 
deathless glory. 

The then Commander-in-Chief had been down 
to the front line. 

"We can't hold out much longer,' ' said a colo- 
nel. "It is impossible.' ' 

"I only want men who can do the impossible," 
replied Lord French. "You must hold." And 
the line held. 

To the right of Ypres things were going badly. 
The deluge of German shell was well-nigh un- 
bearable. Even the most heroic courage could not 
prevail against such uneven balance of strength. 
The cry was for men, and yet every man was 
engaged. 

It was on that memorable day — for ever 
unique in the history of British arms — that cooks, 
servants, and orderlies went up into the firing 
line, and the man who exchanged the frying-pan 
for the rifle achieved a record of bravery as im- 
perishable as his comrade long trained to fight. 
Still the lines shook under that mighty Teutonic 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 19 

assault. It seemed more than human endurance 
could possibly stand. 

Meanwhile Sir Douglas Haig had been ordered 
into the shambles with the First Corps. They 
manned the bloody breach and won for all time 
to come the title of the "Iron Brigade/ ' even as 
Haig himself in other and equally strenuous clays 
had gained the sobriquet of "Ironside." The 
old metal rang true. 

Now came the event which bound the silent 
Fifer to his men with hooks of steeL For twen- 
ty-four hours the furies of battle had raged. The 
German bombardment was now a hideous storm 
of dripping death. The Prussian Guard rose like 
magic legions out of the ground. They had just 
broken through one British line and small par- 
ties ofi khaki-clad troops were in retreat. 

Suddenly down the Menin Road, and with Ypres 
silhouetted behind like a mystic city shrouded with 
smoke, rode Sir Douglas Haig — trim, well- 
groomed, serene, sitting his horse erect and un- 
afraid, and with an escort of his own 17th Lan- 
cers as perfectly turned out as on a peace parade. 
Overhead was the incessant shriek of shells, and 
all around carnage reigned. A thrill of sponta- 
neous admiration swept over those tired and bat- 
tered troops, for the spectacle they beheld was 
as unlike war as night is unlike day. 

The effect of that calm and confident presence 
acted like a cooling draught on a parched tongue. 
It galvanised the waning strength in the gory 
trenches : the retreat became an advance and the 
broken line was restored. Haig had turned the 
tide. 

I have seen that Menin Road down which Haig 



20 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

rode with his unuttered message of faith. Two 
years had passed, but it was still the highway 
of death, for shrapnel rained all around. It was 
only accessible to the civilian willing to take the 
risk. How much more deadly was it when the 
blue-eyed man who now rules the British Armies 
in France gave that amazing evidence of his dis- 
regard of danger! I thought of it then, and 
again on that winter day when I sat talking with 
him amid the comparative ease and comfort of 
General Headquarters. 

A few days after the event I have just described 
Haig had one of his close calls from death. A 
German shell burst in the midst of his headquar- 
ters and nearly every one of his staff officers was 
killed or maimed. The Field-Marshal was out on 
a tour of inspection at the time. " Lucky Haig" 
again. 

"When Haig became Commander-in-Chief it 
seemed the logical goal of a long period of stal- 
wart preparation — an inevitable thing. For deep 
down under the Haig character, and incidentally 
behind his distinguished achievements, are two 
shining qualities — patience and perseverence. He 
has never hesitated to do what we in America call 
"spade-work." It is sometimes prosaic, but it 
is usually effective. 

Contradictory as it may seem when you con- 
sider his Scottish ancestry, there must some- 
where be a touch of the Oriental in Sir Douglas 
Haig. I mean, of course, that phase of his char- 
acter which finds expression in persistent and 
methodical preparedness. His whole career is 
literally a dramatisation of an ancient Moslem 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 21 

proverb, which reads: "Patience is the key to 
Paradise.' ' 

Take the Somme offensive. Nothing could ex- 
press the Haig idea better. For months every- 
body knew that the "big push" was booked. 
There were many times during the lull that pre- 
ceded the advance when men less cautious would 
have loosed the dogs of war that tugged so hard 
at the leash. But the Field-Marshal, with that 
super-patience which makes him almost Job-like, 
waited until the last and most minute detail was 
ready. Then he shot his bolt — and it went home. 
It was a triumph of the readiness which is the 
basic principle of the Haig creed. 

What is known as the "Haig nibble' * is an- 
other conspicuous example of his technique. In 
this war the open engagement is the rare excep- 
tion. After the first few months it developed into 
a trial by trench — to a wearing-down process. 
Attrition is what the experts call it. Nothing 
could suit the Field-Marshal's temperament bet- 
ter. A method of campaign that would discour- 
age most Commanders and lead them on to indis- 
cretion has made it possible for him to push stead- 
ily and stolidly on. 

What has been the result? The giant British 
Army mouse nibbled at the German front in the 
West so consistently that towards the end of Feb- 
ruary the great retreat began which netted the 
English many miles of bloodless gain. 

PLAYING THE WAB GAME 

This, then, is the type of man who sits at the 
flat-topped desk at General Headquarters with 



22 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

his finger on the pulse of that long-drawn battle- 
line and responsive to its remotest quiver. The 
marvel of motor, telegraph, and telephone enables 
him to be in constant touch with every unit of his 
command. Follow him through his day's work 
and you see how the game of war is played — a 
war that, having tested the resource and resiliency 
of all Europe, has now extended its dread do- 
main beyond the reaches of the Atlantic to the 
shores of America. 

It is only when you have been to the war that 
you can appreciate the qualifications necessary for 
its conduct. To visualise it properly requires a 
"ten-league canvas' ' splashed with "brushes of 
comets' hair." No written account can convey 
an adequate impression of the huge hosts in- 
volved, the widespread scope of operations, the 
immense problems of transport (the British Ar- 
mies in France have built and operate sufficient 
railway mileage to duplicate the whole Pennsyl- 
vania system), all the needs and exactions of 
that throbbing zone of conflict which, if employed 
for peace, would populate and perpetuate a king- 
dom. 

In the midst of this monster destruction an 
enormous conservation is achieved. Only the dead 
are laid away. Nothing is "scrapped." They 
make laces out of cast-off shoes: redeem shat- 
tered guns, convert refuse fat into glycerine, re- 
plenish the flickering fires of life itself. War 
is not all waste. 

And when this moving picture — more animated 
than any imaginative play ever thrown upon cine- 
ma screen — has passed before you, you realise 
that even before a single shot is fired dynamic 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 23 

energy and organisation of the highest order have 
been tested to a well-nigh incredible extent. 

It dawns on you that War is indeed Work! 

Since the Commander-in-Chief himself is the 
incarnation of systematic labour, it follows that 
the daily procedure of that modest establishment 
which he rules ' ' somewhere in France ' ' is efficient 
and effective. Taking its cue from the top, noth- 
ing disturbs the tenour of its way. Triumph or 
disaster are treated just the same. The unflinch- 
ing discipline which binds the head of the armies 
to his closest colleagues has made possible a con- 
sistent and unwavering progress of the war. 

Every morning at nine o'clock Sir Douglas 
Haig is at his desk, and from that time until the 
lunch gong sounds he is in conference with the 
head of those various branches of the Service 
whose efforts comprise the total of war opera- 
tions. Upon his desk are heaped the reports of 
everything that happened the night before. A raid 
on forty yards of trench many miles away may 
reveal information of utmost importance to the 
whole army. Thus the office becomes a clearing- 
house of information, and out of it emerges the 
news, grave or cheery, that is flashed to a waiting 
world, and likewise those more significant com- 
mands whose execution makes history. 

The process of assembling and assimilating all 
the news of that far-flung front is reduced to a 
very simple science. This is because each army 
unit has its own headquarters — a replica in every 
detail of the chief establishment. The difference 
between these lesser headquarters and the master 
one is that at the former must be handled, in 
addition to actual fighting and flying, the terrific 



24 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

task of providing food and ammunition, ambu- 
lance and hospital relief, remounts and renewal 
of rank and personnel. 

But all this is so admirably organised that, no 
matter what the stress of storm or struggle, the 
food is always at the distribution point, ammu- 
nition is constantly piled up at gun or trench, ten- 
der hands are ever ready to succour the wounded 
or bury the slain. It is the absolute infallibility 
of this system, which includes, among many de-. 
tails, a traffic police as competent as the blue- 
coats on Broadway or Fifth Avenue in New York, 
that stamps itself as the supreme miracle of the 
war. 

The mystery of close and continuous contact 
between the Allied Armies is easily explained. 
It is accomplished by means of what is known as a 
liaison officer or group of officers. They are pre- 
cisely what this French word means — a connec- 
tion. There is a French mission or liaison with all 
high British Commands, and vice versa. Through 
this medium all communication is made and all 
news of operations transmitted. It is swift, sim- 
ple and direct. 

So, too, with that monster agency of devastation 
—the modern battle. Go behind the scenes and 
you find that, like every other detail of the war, it 
is merely a matter of systematic, calculated detail. 
It is like a super-selling campaign conducted by 
the best organised business concern in the world. 

In former days when wars were decided by 
a ^single heroic engagement, armies stood to their 
arms for hours before battle while the Com- 
mander rode up and down the lines giving the 
men cheer and encouragement. To-day the Com- 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 25 

mander who tried that trick would live about two 
consecutive seconds, because the long arm of artil- 
lery, which has annihilated distance, would wipe 
him out also. 

Instead, the Commander-in-Chief remains many 
miles behind the front, bound to it by every 
means that constant communication devises. He 
has before him photographs of every inch of 
enemy ground taken by aviators. The wonderful 
thing about modern battle planning is that by 
means of these aerial pictures it is possible to 
keep the panorama of the battle-ground up to date 
to the very minute. In winter, for example, a 
fall of snow will greatly alter the whole situa- 
tion. But the aerial photographer gets around this 
by making a series of pictures that show the 
enemy trenches before, during and after the snow 
fall. 

The plan of a great campaign like the Somme 
is built out of months of preparation and confer- 
ence. The Commander-in-Chief decides on the 
general scheme, while the specific tasks are as- 
signed for execution to the various army com- 
manders. In other words, every chief and the men 
under him have a particular job to do, and it is 
up to them to do it. The total of these jobs, some 
of them requiring months of solid effort, comprise 
the offensive. War nowadays is a series of so- 
called offensives enlisting millions of men and 
ranging over hundreds of miles of front. It is 
devoid of thrill : you never see a flag : it is literally 
the hardest kind of " spade work." 

As you watch the organisation of the British 
Armies in France unfold, you become more and 
more impressed with their kinship with Big Busi- 



26 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

ness as we know it in America. Like Andrew 
Carnegie, Sir Douglas Haig leans on experts. 
He assumes that a man who has devoted a large 
part of his life to a specific task knows all about 
it and is to be trusted. He has gathered about him, 
therefore, a group of keen, alert, and live-minded 
advisers. Some of them served their apprentice- 
ship in other wars; others have been swiftly 
seasoned in the present struggle. They represent 
the very flower of service and experience. It is 
a remarkable company — these men who move so 
noiselessly, who work so loyally, who keep in- 
cessant vigil with war. 

There is still another link with business. In 
many large commercial establishments in the 
United States you find a so-called suggestion-box. 
Into it the humblest employees may drop a sug- 
gestion for the improvement of the business. It 
ranges from a plan for a more methodical ar- 
rangement of office stationery to a whole new sys- 
tem of time and labour-saving machinery. In 
many cases prizes are offered for the best sugges- 
tion made during the year. 

There is no such box at General Headquar- 
ters, but its informal substitute is the meal-table, 
where both civilian and soldier have free play 
not only to inquire of the branch of service in 
which they are most interested, but to make any 
suggestion that may be born of observation. 

No recommendation is too modest or too far- 
fetched to have the serious and courteous consid- 
eration of the kindly man who sits at the head of 
the table. 

Nor is all the talk of "Shop." War is some- 
times subordinated to the less ravaging things 



A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 27 

that are happening out in the busy world where 
there is no rumble of guns, no clash of armed men, 
and where life is not one bombardment after an- 
other. And sometimes, too, there is talk of those 
haunts and homes across the sea where brave 
hearts yearn and where the agony of war sus- 
pense is not less searching than at the righting 
front. They also serve who wait alone. 

On every detail of daily life at General Head- 
quarters the Field-Marshal's character is im- 
pressed. After lunch, for example, he spends an 
hour alone, and in this period of meditation the 
whole fateful panorama of the war passes before 
him. "When it is over the wires splutter and the 
fierce life of the coming night — the Army does 
not begin to fight until most people go to sleep — 
is ordained. 

This finished, the brief period of respite begins. 
Rain or shine, his favourite horse is brought up to 
the door and he goes for a ride, usually accom- 
panied by one or two young staff officers. I have 
seen Sir Douglas Haig galloping along those 
smooth French roads, head up, eyes ahead — a 
memorable figure of grace and motion. He rides 
like those latter-day Centaurs, the Australian 
ranger and the American cowboy. He seems part 
of his horse. 

Home from the ride, there are more confer- 
ences ; then dinner, with its lighter but always in- 
structive talk and its relief from the strain of 
work. 

That modest establishment is early to bed, but 
more than one guest at General Headquarters on 
the way to his chamber h:v massed the office of 
the Commander-in-Chief and seen him — a silent, 



28 A VISIT TO SIR DOUGLAS HAIG 

aloof, almost lonely figure — leaning over a map 
and beginning the nightly wrestle with the great 
problem that, reaching out from the friendly 
house amid the trees, touches and affects the des- 
tiny and safety of the whole world. 

In that closing picture is the revelation of Haig 
the Man and Soldier. Like his conduct of the 
war, his personality is the concentrated sum of 
patient, persistent, untiring effort. Lacking the 
brilliancy of spectacular and shallow natures, it 
combines those elements of stamina and stick-to- 
it-iveness that rear in the end the impregnable 
bulwark of confidence and success. 



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